


Day 5: Dust

by faisyah865



Series: HiJack March Madness 2016 [5]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Day 5, HiJack March Madness 2016, M/M, and so much feels, bewaaaaaaaaare, holy shit, i almost cried writing this, kbhkdzhgkzjshglkjhb, madness16 day 5, srsly guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:19:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faisyah865/pseuds/faisyah865
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembered the emptiness, he remembered the lack of sound, he remembered the dullness.</p><p>He remembered the dust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 5: Dust

**Author's Note:**

> I almost cried writing this. So much feels my chest hurts. I didn't expect to write all this for that damn word, buuuuuuuuuuut....
> 
> Enjoy! Kudos and comments are appreciated!! :3

The apartment was quiet.

It always has been.

Even his footsteps were almost inaudible. Worn sneakers padded across the floor soundlessly, no hurry in their pace. They leave marks on the dusty surface. The dust was probably three inches thick, who cares?

He set his bag quietly onto his bed, and took off his sneakers just as silently. He cringed when the bed let out a creak as he sat down, the noise too loud in the dead apartment. He already did all his homework at school and at a cafe, already had a little food with what little money he had in his pocket, so all he had left to do was sleep the night away. His bed was the least dustiest thing in this entire shelter, but that might be because it’s the only thing in his room. Just a bed. No need for anything else.

He didn’t bother changing clothes, there was always tomorrow. He just curled up onto his thin covers, no strength left to get under them. No point. They barely did any good keeping him warm. He had gotten used to the cold now. He let his eyelids fall over lifeless blue eyes, the colour dull no matter how bright they were suppose to be. What point was there in having any light in there?

His last thought before drifting off into another dreamless state of unconsciousness was the dust settling around him. He felt like one of them. Just there. No purpose. Annoying people whenever they came in contact. Thrown out.

He felt like dust. He felt worthless.

_**...** _

Looking back, he was hit with sudden realization at how depressing his life had been. He just sat on rumpled sheets when he thought about his life back then. He couldn’t move, just stared ahead but not seeing anything. He remembered the emptiness, he remembered the lack of sound, he remembered the dullness.

He remembered the dust.

Dust so thick it took him minutes to clean it off when he stepped in it. Dust everywhere. On the floor, on the bare kitchen counter, in the cupboards, on the fridge, in the sink.

The one lone dust on the bed.

His head suddenly felt heavy, and he let it droop down. He was breathing heavily. His sight was slightly blurry, and it wasn’t until a tear fell he noticed more welling in his bright blue eyes. He let them fall. Let them splash onto the wooden boards.

Thoughts and memories of his old life lingered, and he pushed them away, not wanting to relive them. He didn’t want to remember how he had been. Empty. Dust.

Instead, he focused on what happened. What changed his life. Who came into his life with all the light in the world and shone it on him. Who taught him how to feel again. Who taught him how to smile, how to laugh. How to cry, how to frown. How to be himself.

He heard his name being called out, the nasally voice he loved so much flooding the room. A face with _beautiful_  forest green eyes and freckles came into his view. Warm, calloused hands slid onto his shoulder and neck, the touch warm and comforting like a fire in winter. His mouth was moving, asking _are you okay, what happened, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack…_

He would never tire hearing his name come out of his mouth.

He lifted his now much-lighter head, staring straight into those eyes which held so much light and _life_  in them he was drowning, but he was more than happy to. A smile softened his features, the tears calmed with the occasional one or two slipping out. He felt himself being moved, and then they were both on the bed facing each other.

He felt those hands lift away from his body, and he almost frowned at the lack of contact. Then suddenly, he was being enveloped and all he could feel was _him._ A hand came to rest at the back of his head, cradling him close to a firm chest, his ear placed right above his heartbeat. He felt limbs wrap around him, trapping him in a cocoon of warmth and _love_ like a thick blanket in the harshest of blizzards. Another hand was moving up and down his back in soothing circles, involuntarily bringing him _so much closer._ He felt lips kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings, the soft sound drifting into his ears, putting him at ease. He heard those three words being said to him _over and over again_  with such emotion in them he started crying again.

He felt so much and so deeply he thought he might explode. He didn’t feel empty anymore. He didn’t feel like dust, didn’t feel worthless.

He felt like he was worth everything to this man.

He felt _loved._


End file.
